


Pride Cometh

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Fluff & Angst [201]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: And the background slash, M/M, Put on your goggles darlings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 14:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Before the fall.





	

“I asked for the status report _three. Hours. Ago.”_  


“I know, Sir, I–”  


“Oh, so you thought that was me reinforming you? In case you didn’t listen to me the first time?”  


“No, Sir, it’s that the reporting is–”  


“All you are giving me is excuses. Even if the tool is down, you can interrogate the–”  


One moment, everything is fine. (As fine as you can be when you sustained heavy fire, and are currently hanging in deep space, since the hyperdrive warning system kicked you out of hyperspace _early_.) Then there’s some ungodly sound like Kylo’s stomach after street food dialled up to the size of a large city, and everything goes… up.

Or ‘up’ relative to what is considered ‘down’ on the ship. Hux yelps as he flounders, and his feet go from under him.

Almost everyone else is sitting down, so they don’t fall. Kylo - of course - doesn’t make a fool of himself. 

Mitaka is trying to right himself and look dignified.

Hux’s hand… is on Kylo’s crotch.

He doesn’t process immediately, because he’s down on one knee, and screaming for more status reports, but then he looks up and realises he has hold of - uh - Kylo’s Little Kylo. And several people have seen him holding onto Kylo’s groin as if it were a handrail. And now Hux wants the ship to break up right now, please, thank you, everyone die and never speak of this again.

“…can I help you up?” Kylo asks, his voice… a little strained.  


Hux pulls his hand away, and climbs to his feet on his own. “I’m fine. Or I would be, if _someone would tell me what the blasted hell is going on with my ship?!_ ”

Righteous indignation beats casual groping any day.


End file.
